


Blue

by astralhuang



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 22:29:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16962666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astralhuang/pseuds/astralhuang
Summary: Renjun breaks out his art supplies on a Sunday morning, and Jaemin is his canvas.





	Blue

"You'll stain the sheets, Injun."

"I'm being careful."

Jaemin watches the motes of dust floating slowly, almost idly, in the rays of sunlight that stream through his window. The glass could use a scrub, he thinks, but it can wait a week or two. He leans back against his headboard as Renjun settles between his legs, paintbrush in one hand, a plastic palette of blue and yellow gouache in the other. The latter he then balances precariously on his thigh, but Jaemin has no time to object before Renjun draws his hands closer, palms facing upwards, and dips his brush into the darkest shade of blue.

The soft synthetic bristles and the cool paint feel nice on his skin. Relaxing. Jaemin watches him work, notes the slight furrow of his brows and the way his overgrown bangs fall over his eyes. Seeing him like this, Jaemin can almost forget the strangeness of his request – _"Let me paint the Starry Night on your hands."_  It's one of those things that's so undeniably, indisputably _him._ And here, on a Sunday morning, in his bedroom, nestled on his unmade white comforter with nothing but the silence of dawn and the dust motes floating by his window, Renjun is all he can sense.

A picture starts to form under the touch of his brush – flecks of yellow and white taking place against the blue. He's almost startled when Renjun's eyes suddenly shoot up to meet his, and his face must have betrayed as much, because Renjun laughs. A gentle laugh that weaves into the morning quiet without disrupting it, and for the briefest instant, Jaemin is aware of how ephemeral this moment is, how easily it can slip through his grasp if he doesn't anchor every second of it to memory.

And so he tries. He tries to memorize the way the sun illuminates half of Renjun's face and glints off his gold-rimmed glasses, the way a smile lingers on his lips for too long after he's started working again, the deftness of his fingers as he handles the brush. He zeroes in on every minute detail until he's convinced that he has managed to stop time itself, and he barely notices when Renjun releases his hands and leans over his leg to place the palette and paintbrush on his bedside table.

"All done."

Jaemin looks at his hands, where Renjun has painted a passable replication of Van Gogh's magnum opus, swirls of gold on a backdrop of blue, somehow made alive by his skin, his pulse. A part of him recalls telling Renjun once – perhaps in a dream – that he sets galaxies off like fireworks in his soul. Galaxies that mirror the ones in the smaller boy's eyes, and now the one on Jaemin's palms.

"Do you like it?" Renjun is looking at him expectantly, hands clasped together in his lap, and he doesn't know what to say.

_I love it? I love you?_

Both are correct. But neither is enough.

So he leans forward, and out of habit, his hand comes up and his fingertips trail slowly down Renjun's cheek, leaving azure streaks on his skin, and he probably feels the wet paint on his face because he says–

"Idiot. Let it dry first."

"Quiet, love."

Then Jaemin's lips are on his and the moment is sealed where it can't be tainted, in a Sunday morning amidst rumpled sheets and smudged art and sunlight streaming through dusty glass.

**Author's Note:**

> the idea for this – particularly the image of blue paint trailing down renjun's cheek – came to me late one night, and even though i was half asleep, i just had to write it down. it's very short but i hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> i'm on twitter @tinyinjun if you'd like to talk! ♡


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